


The Extent of a Phantom's Pride

by stirlingphoenix



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Basketball, Fluffy Ending, M/M, Swearing, poly ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-07 07:17:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4254318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stirlingphoenix/pseuds/stirlingphoenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a worried Kuroko cannot find Mayuzumi, he looks to his senpai for help. As Mayuzumi's closest friend, the senpai thinks it's a bit odd that Mayuzumi's run off, especially since it's the morning of their team's very first game of the season. To his surprise, he soon learns that this entire ordeal is about much more than the game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Extent of a Phantom's Pride

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Eorendel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eorendel/gifts).



> A huge 'thank you' goes out to Eorendel for giving me such a fun prompt to work with. You're the best!

Everyone has that one thing.

You know the thing. Maybe it's an object, maybe it's a hobby, maybe it's even an idea, or a moral that keeps you going in life. When everything else seems hopeless, becomes nothing but a source of disappointment, or a stimulus for loathsome memories, there's still that one, wholly irreplaceable thing that you hold onto for dear life, because not only does it bring you unbridled joy and fill your soul with a sense of tranquility-the likes of which you may never find with anything else-it's the one thing that couldn't possibly let you down.

For me, that one thing is basketball, or rather, it's my love for the game. Whether I'm practicing by myself in the driveway, teaching my little brother and sister how to play, or even competing in a real game where my teammates depend on me (and I have to trust them in return) my passion for basketball does not waver in the slightest. As long as I'm playing the game, you can be assured that I've found my happiness.

And not to brag, but I was always kind of a natural with the sport. From dribbling the ball, to pulling a fast break to the hoop and dunking the ball, all the way to shooting the ball from well beyond the three-point line, I've excelled at it all since I was just a kid. I'm sure the fact that I started out with a bit of raw talent plays a key role in my fascination, and even helped to develop and hone my zealous spirit. Even I have to admit that it's difficult to find enjoyment in any activity that you objectively have no gift for.

Having just said that, it might seem a bit spoiled of me to say this, but for me, sheer ability or natural skill just isn't enough.

Talent is essential; I thank my lucky stars every day that whatever supreme being that rules over the realm of all things basketball saw fit to bestow upon me the capabilities I have. That doesn't change the fact that all the talent in the world means jack shit unless you actually use it, delve into the potential you were born with, and use it to grow and perfect your passions.

If you're gonna do something, and only do a half-assed job of it, what's the point of even doing it in the first place? Why give any effort at all if you're not gonna go all out? I've never understood the point of giving anything less than 100% of my efforts, and I doubt I'll ever see it any other way.

When I say it out loud, that actually seems kind of narrow-minded of me, but in this case specifically, is that really a bad thing? Is the refusal to give less than my absolute best a character flaw? Ha! Yeah right. I doubt that even my captain, Akashi Seijuro, whom I have the utmost faith in, could attempt to convince me otherwise.

It was the morning of our team's very first game of the season and as excited as I was for this day, I could hardly sleep last night.

Surprisingly, I managed to squeeze in a few decent hours of shut-eye before the sun rose above the horizon and its excessively bright rays were cast upon the open window in my room, making sleep a complete impossibility for me. I saw no point in lying around, so after going through the motions of a particularly hasty morning routine, I found myself at the gymnasium five hours earlier than everyone else.

The thought of exhausting myself before the game flickered like a dying flame in the back of my mind, but that tiny spark was extinguished almost as quickly as it had been ignited by the boundless excitement that I couldn't possibly contain. Before I knew it, I had a ball in hand and was practicing all of the moves and ball-handling techniques that I had done thousands of times before. The ball's wholly unique texture felt like silk underneath my calloused fingertips as I dribbled, drove, and shot the ball with an acute precision that I had managed to perfect over the years.

Soon, I barely remembered where I was anymore. The screeching sound of the gym floor against the rubber soles of my tennis shoes went unheard, and the unmistakable noise that came from the gym's ventilation system was completely unnoticed as I entered my own little world, where there was only the basketball, the hoop, and myself. Even the physical laws that described inertia and friction seemed nonexistent as I traveled up and down the court, totally unaware of my surroundings, and the sound of someone entering the gym.

The sudden flash of light blue totally caught me off guard, and I was powerless to stop myself from crashing straight into the source. The force of the abrupt impact sent us both falling backwards at a speed that that left us both vulnerable to the heartless, yet necessary power of gravity.

The next thing I knew, I had landed gracelessly on my ass. Falling was not something I was prone to do; the feeling of the gym floor was a foreign, and most definitely unpleasant sensation-one that I wasn't too keen on experiencing again anytime soon. Groaning internally, I slowly picked myself up and realized that not only was the person I knocked into also suffering the aftermath of this more than a little awkward run-in, but his body had obviously taken a harder hit.

"Hey, are you alright?" I asked automatically as I simultaneously helped him back onto his feet without waiting for an answer. Luckily, aside from being slightly dazed, it didn't look like he suffered any physical arm.

"Kuroko-kun?" I couldn't manage to hide the note of surprise from my voice, and I mentally berated myself for being so damn unobservant. Normally, I could pride myself on being one of the very few people on the team that truly noticed Kuroko-kun's presence. Clearly he had gotten away from me this time around.

"I apologize, Senpai. I didn't mean to startle you," he said when he was able to support himself on his own two feet, without any assistance from me.

"Ah, it's alright," I replied, dusting myself off as I pretended to be unfazed.

"Do you need something?" It wasn't like Kuroko-kun to be this early. Really, if anything, he'd often used his lack of presence to get away with being tardy.

"I was wondering if you had seen Mayuzumi-senpai lately."

"Not since last night after practice." I paused for a moment, wondering if that was really the case. For the past several hours, I had been so focused on nothing except for the game that I somehow lost any sense of time. The memories of last night's training session seemed like they had happened so long ago, as if they were distant thoughts that I might recall several years later, when I become an old man who takes joy in reminiscing about his high school days. I had to actively remind myself that the practice in which Kuroko-kun was referring to had ended only thirteen hours ago, and there was no way I had seen Mayuzumi during that time.

"Why?" I found myself asking when I was at last satisfied with my conclusion.

"I haven't been able to reach him," Kuroko-kun said in an expressionless voice as he took a couple steps back so he could sit down on a nearby bench.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine. Thank you, senpai."

I had always known Kuroko-kun to be an honest, if not overly-blunt individual. Just as every time before, I found no reason to distrust him, so I let the subject of his well-being go. That's not what he was here for anyway.

Of course, there were several ways in which to reach Mayuzumi. I knew that Kuroko-kun was the type of person that would exhaust all of his resources before asking for help, but even so, I couldn't help but run through the routine, as if I was a tech support employee trying to help a customer figure out why their computer wasn't working properly.

"You've called?"

"Yes."

"Did you stop by his house?"

"He's not there."

"You didn't by chance stop by the bookstore on the corner of 12th and Maple, did you?" The shop was one of Mayuzumi's favorite places; I knew that Mayuzumi and Kuroko-kun were close, but I was not exactly sure of what kind of relationship existed between them. However, I was sure that at the very least, Kuroko-kun knew about the places Mayuzumi liked to frequent.

"I did. I even tried the cafe right next door, and checked the school's rooftop before I came to you.

"Ah."

Kuroko-kun had evidently done his homework, not that I found that to be surprising in anyway whatsoever. Now the obvious, potentially insulting questions were out of the way, but that only meant that we might actually have a real problem on our hands. While not knowing where Mayuzumi was wasn't a huge issue in and of itself, the fact that he wasn't picking up his phone was kind of alarming.

I was sure that I was getting ahead of myself. After all, there was still plenty of time until the game started; surely Mayuzumi would show up by then. He was never nearly as vocal as I was in showing his enthusiasm for this day; his being never buzzed with unadulterated excitement that grew with each passing second like mine did when we discussed the upcoming game, but I knew better. Such an outward display of emotion wasn't his style. Truth be known, such giddy behavior wasn't really like me either, but this was obviously one major exception. I digress; I knew that Mayuzumi was really looking forward to this game, and I was sure that he wouldn't miss it.

Despite my reasoning, an unsettling feeling that could only be described as paranoid unease began to develop in the pit of my stomach. Normally, something like this would barely faze me, and my logical side would deem this situation to be pointless, but Kuroko-kun seemed to be worked up about Mayuzumi's 'disappearance', and I knew that he wasn't the type of person to freak out over nothing.

"Well, you know, the game's going to start in a couple of hours, and Mayuzumi's definitely going to show up for that, so I wouldn't worry about it." I responded quickly, willing my reasonable side to overpower this sudden bout of anxiety and bury it deep within the darkest, most forgotten corner of my mind.

"I know that you both have very," I paused for a moment, trying to decide on the word that would be the least offensive for what I wanted to say, "scarce," yeah, that still didn't sound right to me, but it it was too late to take it back now, "presences, but trust me, Mayuzumi will surely make his presence known when he cares to be seen."

"I'm not so sure about that," Kuroko muttered under his breath. His gaze shifted to the floor, yet I could still see the pensive expression on his face. I knew very well that he didn't mean for me to hear that, but I wasn't the type to let anything slide so easily, especially when it involved the team.

"What was that?" I could feel the smallest of smirks pull at my lips, making any attempt I had at playing innocent in vain.

"Oh. It was nothing, I was talking to myself." Kuroko-kun's eyes remained focused on the floor, and it became abundantly obvious that he knew something that I didn't.

"Uh-huh," I said, simply, taking a seat next to him on the bench. Neither of us said anything for a few moments. I knew that Kuroko-kun could tell that I wasn't going to let the the conversation end like that, but he still refused to say anything.

"Why wouldn't Mayuzumi-kun show up?" I finally asked, letting my impatience get the best of me.

"Please don't concern yourself with this, senpai." His voice sounded weak and exasperated, as if he knew that asking was pointless. As far as I was concerned, it was.

"Kuroko-kun."

"Has Akashi-kun shared today's starting line-up with you yet?"

I shrugged. "Haven't seen him since yesterday after practice either."

"Oh." Kuroko-kun kept staring at the shiny tiles, and his feet began to shuffle idly against the floor. "Well Mayuzumi-kun and I stayed after practice to ask him about it last night."

Normally, I might very well have reprimanded such audacious and impatient behavior. Akashi-kun was the captain for several reasons, but namely because of the sincere respect I held for him, which ultimately led to me resigning from the captain's position less than a month after he joined the club. From the moment I laid eyes on him, I could sense the absolute, unwavering power the first-year student possessed, and I knew after one brief moment of eye contact that he would be the one who could lead our team to victory. The idea of questioning Akashi-kun's decisions had never once crossed my mind. I know that makes me seem like a blind follower, but in actuality, it's a testament to just how much faith I have in our captain.

But in Mayuzumi and Kuroko-kun's defense, it had been the day before the game, and while the rest of us, (us being Akashi-kun, Mibuchi-kun, Nebuya-kun, and myself) knew that we would be starting (and most likely playing the entire game) today, Kuroko-kun and Mayuzumi-kun did not know if they'd be playing at all, let alone starting.

And quite honestly, no one else knew that answer either. How do I put this? Mayuzumi and Kuroko-kun share and fulfill a very special role on our team. While they are inherently differently people on almost every level (including personality traits, views on life, hobbies, you get my point), one striking similarity between them is their ability to easily blend in, or more specifically, their unique talent that allows them to disappear and reappear again at will in a wholly extraordinary skill known as misdirection.

It seems kind of strange, and truly, I was baffled when Akashi-kun first introduced us to the concept of misdirection, but Mayuzumi and Kuroko-kun both caught on remarkably quickly, and soon it was like we were playing a different game entirely. The intense level of play we could accomplish with the power of misdirection was almost unbelievable, and to be completely honest, I have a hard time remembering how I played basketball before this point.

As powerful as misdirection is, it only works when one player on the team is using it. During practice, Mayuzumi and Kuroko-kun were rarely seen on the court at the same time (if you were diligent enough to see them at all, that is) and if they were, they definitely weren't on the same team. I knew Akashi-kun would have to make this decision eventually, but I had no idea how it would turn out.

"And? What's the verdict?" I asked, realizing that I too, had become a little too impatient to know the answer.

"I'll be starting the match."

"That's great!" I didn't catch the somber tone in his voice as my happiness for him grew. "Congratulations, Kuroko-kun. You've worked so hard, you definitely deserve it," I concluded, raising my hand to him for a high five.

"So does Mayuzumi-senpai."

Kuroko-kun's voice sounded more and more defeated with each word he said. He didn't even bother to look up at me, leaving me one high five short.

"Well yeah," I tried, letting my hand fall down to my side and allowing it to hit the plastic of the bench with a soft 'thud'.

"If truth be known," I tried again, "you two have put more effort into your training than the rest of the team has combined." My mouth started to feel dry, like I had stuffed it with a handful of cotton balls. My tongue felt like it was super-glued to the top of my mouth, and it took me an awkward amount of time before I could open my mouth to formulate words again. "But obviously Akashi-kun saw something in you that he didn't see in Mayuzumi."

Kuroko-kun didn't respond to that, not that I really expected him to. It was blatantly obvious that Kuroko-kun was not happy about this decision, and nothing I said was going to make it any better.

"I don't understand." Again, his voice was soft, and was clearly meant to go unheard.

"There's more to this story, isn't there?" The question was asked before I realized I had spoken at all.

For the first time, since our conversation about Mayuzumi began, Kuroko-kun looked up at me. Rather than the defeated expression I expected to see, I saw only a look of raw determination. It was a face I had seen him wear nearly every day at practice.

"Senpai, please help me find Mayuzumi-senpai." The conviction in his voice mirrored his resolute expression.

"Yeah, okay."

I feel like I should have said something with a bit (a lot) more valor, but something held me back. A lingering shadow of doubt manifested itself in the back of my mind as we left the gym; something told me that this would be no easy task. After all, finding a man who possessed the powerful skill of misdirection would be a difficult task in and of itself. Finding the same man who doesn't want to be found would be a whole new ballgame.

* * *

Did I ever mention that I detest silence?

With a little brother and sister who constantly want their older brother's attention, I hardly ever get a moment's peace, and I've grown accustomed to that. With the notable exception of the times when all I can think about is basketball, absolute silence kind of freaks me out. It feels so unnatural and ominous; those are the times when I am always on edge.

Living in the busiest district of Tokyo, you'd think that absolute silence would be nonexistent. You can hardly walk outside without hearing someone's car alarm going off or the mumbled chatter of people talking on their cellphones as they walk down the street. Background noise should be an inescapable feature of the big city by default, so the fact that I couldn't hear anything unnerved every fiber of my being.

I didn't know what was going on. Time ticked away at an alarmingly fast pace, and each moment that passed where Mayuzumi was still missing only fueled my steadily growing anxiety and made the silence even more pronounced.

Kuroko-kun and I had decided to split up back at the gym. We were on a time crunch to begin with; the fact that we had absolutely no leads on where Mayuzumi was only exacerbated our problem, and made covering the maximum amount of ground in the least amount of time even more essential.

I lost track of time ages ago, and it took me an embarrassingly long time to realize that I no longer knew where I was. Without even realizing it, I had somehow managed to wander into an unfamiliar part of town.

_Well shit._

This wasn't good. How in the hell was I supposed to find Mayuzumi, when I was just as lost. At least Mayuzumi might actually know where he is; I would hope that a person who gets lost on purpose actually knows how to find their way back. However, a directionally-competent Mayuzumi did me no favors when I still couldn't find him.

At least there was one small saving grace. I happened to find myself right next to a train station, a place where I would inevitably find a directory, and if I read it right, would be able to find my way back soon enough.

Just as I suspected, the directory was in plain sight from the moment I walked into the station. With absolutely no time to spare, I made a beeline for the small kiosk-like destination, intending to get out of there as soon as possible. People surrounded me from all directions; their mouths were moving. I knew they were talking, but I still didn't hear a sound. The silence was suffocating, the frightening suspense was unbearable, but luckily, my body's inherent need for oxygen pushed me forward, making me keep my eyes on the prize.

It was by pure happenstance that a flicker of gray caught my eyes; that particular shade of gray was unmistakably familiar. I came to a sudden halt, and I instinctively focused in on that small glint of silver. My eyes scanned the station, immediately dismissing everyone and everything that wasn't him. My impromptu game of 'Where's Mayuzumi?' seemed to go on for hours, although in actuality it couldn't have lasted for more than a couple of seconds before my gaze zeroed in on the one person I was beginning to think had succeeded in escaping the world.

There was no semblance of a plan, nor some flimsy course of action running through my mind as I approached him. I didn't know what to say, hell, I didn't know if he'd even speak to me. I don't know what caused me to think of it, but the idea to notify Kuroko-kun crossed my mind just before I reached the station bench Mayuzumi was sitting at.

Either I was miraculously stealthy, or Mayuzumi simply wasn't paying attention (it was probably the latter), because Mayuzumi didn't look my way even once as I fumbled with my phone, trying to get the message to Kuroko-kun. To my total chagrin, the silence that surrounded a place that should have been bustling with noise (almost by definition) was beginning to get the best of me. My fingers were shaky as I hurriedly typed out a message to Kuroko.

_Found him. Train station at 7th and Concord._

I briefly wondered if Mayuzumi was experiencing the same deafening silence, but I quickly remembered that this was all in my head, and even if Mayuzumi was experiencing this as well, I knew it wouldn't bother him like it does me.

As I approached him, the fear that I might not be able to even hear myself speak hit me suddenly, like a freak tsunami that no one saw coming. Was this real? Was this really happening?

There was only one way to find out.

"Hey."

Well, it wasn't the most stunning of entrances, but it was something, and I could definitely hear the one syllable word that left my mouth. And better yet, so could Mayuzumi. All of a sudden, I could hear everything again. The hurried 'click-clack' of dress shoes against a tiled floor, the murmurs of people walking past us, I could even hear the soft rustle of someone turning the page of a newspaper article. The new auditory stimuli quickly faded into the background, however, as I gave all of my attention to Mayuzumi.

When he looked up at me, I saw the tiniest sliver of surprise dance in his otherwise dull gray eyes. He didn't say anything, and he didn't have to. His silence spoke volumes, and oddly enough, I was okay with that.

"Mind if I join you?" I felt like a major weight had been lifted from my chest, and at last I could reclaim my usual cool, confident, and perhaps slightly hot-headed (only with certain people, though) personality.

Mayuzumi only shrugged, and I knew that that was as good of an invitation as I was going to get.

"Thanks."

I didn't say anything after joining him. It wasn't because I didn't know how to start the conversation, but rather, because I wasn't sure how he would react, or what he would respond to. Similar to Kuroko-kun from earlier, Mayuzumi's gaze remained fixed on the ground, like he didn't even notice me watching him, silently analyzing everything, from his posture, to the way the toe of his shoe quietly tapped against the tiled floor.

"Didn't expect to see you here," I started out, hoping that he might reply. I knew that Mayuzumi sometimes had an annoying habit of ignoring those around him. He'd never pulled that stunt on me yet; I just kind of assumed it was because he liked me. Even so, I was cautious as to not cross the line.

"I could say the same about you." He laughed softly, but it was a hollow chuckle, devoid of humor, or any form of emotion at all, really.

"Oh you know, it's a lovely day. I thought I'd take a quick trip down to the Shinjuku district, see the sights, you know?" A total lie, obviously, but at the time easing into the real conversation with a joke seemed like a good idea.

"That certainly is a coincidence," Mayuzumi stated, holding the same detached tone as before. "I'm heading there as well."

His glance shifted ever so lightly up to the ticket in his hands, and I immediately froze.

"Ha, nice one." I tried to keep my voice light and playful, but I could tell from the fancy print letters and the glossy texture of the paper that the ticket was totally authentic. "How did you actually get the ticket booth attendant to print that joke out for you?"

The smallest of smirks appeared on his face, and I could feel the lighthearted smile on my face fall at the exact same moment.

"It was easy. All I had to do was pay the standard ticket price, and they gave it to me without a fuss," he answered lightly, as if this conversation was completely natural, and taking a train to Shinjuku was something he should be doing right before our big game. "They even said I could use it like a real ticket too. Apparently the attendants can hardly tell the difference between what's real and what's fake."

"You're not serious."

"Why not? You said it yourself, _it's a lovely day for a trip_ ," he said a voice that was clearly meant to mimic me.

"You know we have a game in less than two hours, right?" I could hardly believe my own ears. When did Mayuzumi suddenly become so bitter? Perhaps more importantly, why?

" _You_ have a game to be at in less than two hours," he emphasized, correcting my statement like he actually thought he was right.

"No, _we_ have a game," I repeated, subconsciously trying to sway him with even more emphasis on my choice of pronouns.

Mayuzumi looked annoyed, the scowl on his face was similar to the one I knew I was also wearing, but thankfully, he didn't look like he was going to resign to ignoring me anytime soon. I knew he had some sort of snide counter remark at the ready, but I beat him to the punch. I couldn't waste any more time with this stupid banter.

"Kuroko-kun told me about today's line-up."

Whatever retort that Mayuzumi had on his lips died instantly, only to be replaced with an expression that I could only describe as a mixture of shock and disbelief. The unpleasant cocktail of emotion that swirled within the depths of Mayuzumi's eyes vanished as quickly as it came, leaving his gaze as bleak and lifeless as ever.

"So what?" He asked in a defensive manner. "What's the line-up got to do with this?"

"That's what I want to know," I answered. "I mean, I know it must hurt that Akashi-kun decided to start Kuroko-kun over you, but that doesn't mean you should skip out on the game entirely-"

I cut myself off abruptly, realizing that this talk was turning into a lecture, which was the last thing I wanted.

"It's not like you," I finally concluded, hoping that Mayuzumi found my point somewhere in that jumbled mess of words.

"You think?" His voice was dead, as if his body was responding for him reflexively, rather than actually listening to me.

"Well yeah. The fact that you're not starting doesn't mean that the team doesn't need you. I mean, Kuroko-kun gives it his all, but Kami knows he doesn't have the endurance to last the entire game." I was definitely rambling at that point, but I didn't care.

"I'm just Kuroko-kun's substitute then."

"No!" I practically yelled at Mayuzumi, causing several passers-by to gawk at the commotion.

"For fuck's sake," I tried again. Honestly, I was beginning to understand why Kuroko-kun had sound so utterly defeated earlier. Obviously he knew that Mayuzumi would be sporting this shitty attitude.

"You and Kuroko-kun are friends." A spark of an unrecognizable emotion flashed in his eyes at the mention of the word 'friends', but I didn't dwell on it. "Can't you be happy for him?"

"I am."

His voice was wholly honest, and left little room for questioning.

"And what about Akashi-kun?" I asked automatically, not even bothering to analyze the implication behind his answer. "Don't you have it in you to respect the decisions made by our captain?"

"I do."

Again, I was met with the same honest tone that was unwavering in its conviction. I don't know why, but his simple answers were less than satisfying. In fact, they only served to piss me off even more.

"Then what the hell is wrong with you!?" The volume of my voice was growing with each word I said, but unfortunately for Mayuzumi and his would-be fellow train passengers, I was at my wit's end, and frankly, I couldn't control myself any longer. "You're an important part of this team. You don't have the most glamorous job, I'll give you that, but you're still useful, invaluable, even!"

At this point, I wasn't even looking at Mayuzumi anymore. I was far too busy trying to burn holes into that blasted ticket with a death glare as I carried on and made a complete spectacle. I'm sure people were still staring at us, thinking that I was on the brink of insanity, but I was far too wrapped up in this rant to give a damn.

"You said it yourself in the very beginning of the season, didn't you? You said that as long as there was a reason to stay on the team, as long as you could be useful, that you'd stay?"

Shit, this was getting far too heated for me. I had to cut myself before…

Screw it.

"Fucking say something, will you?"

For the longest time, Mayuzumi didn't say a word. He just stared at me with those lackluster eyes of his as my blood continued to simmer gradually. I didn't know what he expected me to say, nor what he wanted from the team, but more than anything else, I didn't know what this was really all about. There was no way in hell that Mayuzumi would act like this over the starting line-up. It was pathetic, and so wholly unlike him.

That feeling I had earlier with Kuroko-kun, that little inkling that screamed, demanded that this entire situation had more substance than it first let on was back, and something told me that it was here to stay. Every ounce of anger and frustration that was slowly building up inside of me vanished instantly upon the realization. The boundless energy I had had only moments before started to slip away from me, and I felt tired, exhausted even.

"What is this really about?" I asked quietly, my voice was completely drained of its prior anger.

Just then, something within Mayuzumi changed. The cold, aloof demeanor he was known for disappeared, and was replaced with a strange cocktail of emotions that I'd never seen on Mayuzumi's face before. Anger, sadness, regret, but above all, Mayuzumi look completely and utterly lost, like he had nowhere to go, nothing left to accomplish, no reason to keep on existing.

I didn't recognize the voice that left Mayuzumi's lips. The unfamiliar tone belonged to a man who had been mercilessly beaten down time and time again, and had finally resigned to being conquered. I didn't know who this was, but it certainly wasn't my prideful best friend.

"I think my usefulness has run out, Ni-"

Before Mayuzumi had the chance to finish my name, and solidify the horrid fears that lied within the shallow depths of such a painful confession, a strong, unshakable voice rang through the air, effectively cutting him off. I recognized that voice, it could only belong to one person.

"You're wrong."

That voice, while not frigid in its delivery, froze us both on the spot. I don't think that either of us expected him, of all people, to come here, but as soon as the initial shock wore off, pure relief flooded all five of my senses. I didn't know the answers to so everything. The 'why' and 'how' of this situation were still dark mysteries to me, but right now, my ignorance was totally irrelevant.

Not five meters away, both Akashi-kun and Kuroko-kun were quickly approaching us. Akashi-kun's stride was quick and flawless; he moved across the station floor with such agility and elegance that it almost looked like he might have been gliding through resistance-free air.

Kuroko-kun, while close behind, was nowhere near as graceful. He looked to be completely out of breath, like he had run the entire way here, but I had to give it to him, he definitely kept up with Akashi-kun like a champion.

The expression on Akashi-kun's face was as placid as it ever was. It betrayed not even the slightest hint of what was going through his mind, but that didn't bother me. The air around him wasn't authoritative or defensive; I didn't know how to explain it. I suppose, the best way to put it is that for the first time in a long while, Akashi-kun felt like he was truly human.

The smallest of smiles graced his lips, and suddenly everything became clear to me.

I've heard of a third wheel before, but a fourth? C'mon now, that's just ridiculous.

"Senpais," Akashi-kun greeted us both, but from the sparkle in his ruby eyes that shone brightly when he looked at Mayuzumi, it was obvious that this conversation was not meant for me.

Mayuzumi stood up, but he made no move to greet or say anything else to Akashi-kun or Kuroko-kun. Damn, I kind of wanted to casually back out of this conversation, seeing how I clearly wasn't supposed to be involved, but if Mayuzumi's silence told me anything, it's that I need to be.

The fierce glare I received for elbowing him was more than worth it. At least it prompted him to keep the conversation going.

"Shouldn't you two be at the game?" His voice took on a scolding tone, as if he was actually attempting to berate them for coming for him.

Mayuzumi had barely uttered the last syllable when Kuroko-kun spoke up.

"Not without you."

Mayuzumi scoffed. "Don't be stupid."

I had half a mind to elbow Mayuzumi again, just to get him to stop being so damn stubborn, but luckily for him, Akashi-kun and Kuroko-kun could hold their own.

"I don't believe that fighting for you is 'stupid' at all, Chihiro," Akashi said, looking as if he wanted to reach out to Mayuzumi.

I have to admit, I was a bit surprised when Mayuzumi didn't have an automatic comeback for that. Apparently he didn't have any comebacks at all; he stood there in total silence, just looking at Akashi-kun and Kuroko-kun in with complete awe, as if he couldn't wrap his mind around the words they were saying.

"We need you, Mayuzumi-senpai," Kuroko-kun stated as he reached forward, taking the step that I'm sure Akashi-kun wanted to do himself and took a hold of Mayuzumi's hand.

"Don't you agree, Akashi-kun?" Kuroko-kun asked, still holding Mayuzumi's hand as he turned towards Akashi-kun.

"I couldn't agree more, Tetsuya." His smile grew as he reached out and took both Mayuzumi's and Kuroko-kun's free hands, forming a bond between them that I knew was real and unbreakable.

"After this, you still believe that I can be useful to you?" The quiver in Mayuzumi's voice was barely noticeable, but he truly looked like he was on the verge of breaking down.

"Much, much more that," Akashi-kun and Kuroko-kun responded in perfect unison, as if they were on the same wavelength.

Thankfully, Mayuzumi didn't suffer the total loss of his willpower as I had feared. A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips, and for the first time that I was able to witness, my best friend looked like he had found true happiness.

"Senpai?"

Akashi-kun's voice broke my focus, and I was whisked away back to reality.

"Yeah?"

"Would you mind heading back and getting our warm-ups started with the team? We'll be right behind you, but there's no sense in keeping the rest of the team waiting." Akashi-kun didn't look at me once while he spoke, but I didn't mind at all. This moment was special for all three of them, and I was more than happy to let them have it.

"Wow, and here I thought I'd never see the day," I chuckled softly not bothering to finish that thought out loud. "Don't worry, Capt. I've got this one," I replied before giving a quick wave and heading towards the entrance.

Now that I wasn't bogged down with the unyielding sense of anxiety and could once again hear everything around me, I realized that I actually did know where I was. I couldn't help but sigh in relief. Man, getting back to the gym now would be a breeze.

Before leaving for good, I looked back at them, just to get a small glimpse of their happiness once more. The bystanders that had watched my earlier loss of temper were nowhere to be found, and not a single person paid them any mind as they basked in each other's presence. The smiles on each of their faces were priceless, and filled with nothing but complete adoration.

Both Kuroko-kun and Akashi-kun had gotten closer to Mayuzumi, and before I could register what was happening, they had leaned in and swiftly closed the gap between Mayuzumi and themselves, landing the softest of kisses to his cheeks.

Not surprisingly, Mayuzumi's skin began to turn red, presumably with embarrassment, but there was much more than that. I could tell that despite his aversion to public displays of affection, he wouldn't have it any other way.

Finally I left, feeling secure in the knowledge that Mayuzumi would never doubt his usefulness again.


End file.
